


Wayward Heart

by JThorsten



Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon, Blizzard Sucks, Cheesy, Drama & Romance, F/M, Mental Instability, Psychological Drama, Soul-Searching, Timewalkers, Where did Jaina go, Why Blizz make characters disappear?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-08
Updated: 2017-02-08
Packaged: 2018-09-22 23:02:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9629051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JThorsten/pseuds/JThorsten
Summary: Placed directly after Jaina leaves Dalaran after the vote to re-admit the Horde. Anduin reveals his father left something for Jaina after his death. Will it help her heal? Or plunge her down into a painful darkness that overshadows losing Theramore?This story is Stand Alone and has no relation to my other/previous fics





	1. Chapter 1

_Like a small boat_

* * *

It was late in the evening in Stormwind and, true to its namesake, a storm was raging through the streets and alleys of the city. The park was being hit particularly hard, with wind and rain howling against the newly constructed memorial for their former leader. 

It had been a week since Varian Wrynn’s funeral, but the city, its people, and Azeroth itself it seemed, still mourned for its fallen king.

But few mourned as deeply as Jaina Proudmoore.

The raging storm that pounded the coastal city had driven even the heartiest of guards indoors, leaving the lone figure standing unobserved at Varian’s memorial. Jaina, drenched to the bone, stood with her forehead pressed against the cement block that supported the late king’s tomb. The sealed crypt lay empty of any physical remains, his body lost during his encounter with Gul’dan. Instead it contained only memories and the aching absence of the man who had once been her closest friend.

“I’m sorry Varian,” Jaina rasped, her tears mixed in with the pounding rain against her skin. She had lost track of how long she’d been there, her heart a writhing maelstrom of anguish and despair that paled the deluge around her. She felt neither the rain, nor the wind. Her body numb to the external discomforts surrounding her.

The Council of Six in Dalaran had voted for the reintroduction of the Horde. In her anger, Jaina had fled the city, the very idea of being near the people responsible for Varian’s death left her feeling vile and betrayed. Her flight had brought her here, to the gravesite that gave her both comfort and wrent her heart with agony. 

It had been dark when she arrived, the storm already raging as Jaina pressed herself against the memorial block, screaming and sobbing in frustration and despair. She knew her friend would’ve scoffed at her tears, but in her aching loss and loneliness, she didn’t care. What little Jaina had left after the bombing of Theramore seemed to be slipping through her fingers like water.

And yet, perhaps the most painful part of it all, was that her mind was still working. 

All Jaina wanted to do was wallow in her anger and despair, but instead her thoughts were filled with logic and rationale. She howled in rage and frustration, but couldn’t halt her unwanted introspection.

Had she been rash in her decisions in Dalaran? Yes, most assuredly she had. In the days that followed Varian’s death, reports from both sides had come in, describing what they’d encountered. While the Alliance had faced Gul’dan and an army of his demons head on, up on the ridge, the Horde had been taken by surprise as another portal had opened, allowing another mass of the Legion’s minions to overtake them. They had retreated, not in betrayal, but in an attempt to save the few soldiers they had remaining. Vol’jin had been grievously injured, and later died from his wounds. He’d named Sylvanas Warchief before his death, leaving many on both sides feeling uneasy.

There was logic behind their retreat, and it angered Jaina further as she found herself understanding, and even agreeing with the Horde’s actions.

It made her question herself. Was her hate still justified? No, no her hatred had been unjust since the trial in Pandaria. It had flared back, brighter than ever when Varian had fallen, and for a brief moment, her accusations during Garrosh’s fall in Orgrimmar had been right. That the Horde would betray them again when the moment found the Alliance at its most vulnerable.

Jaina had been right, and she’d been overcome with a grim vindication that had left her feeling more hollow than victorious. A bitter victory filled with falsehood. They had not betrayed the Alliance. The Horde had fled for their own survival, to live and lick their wounds so they could yet fight another day.

It hurt to be wrong. It was pale compared to the pain of her loss, but it added to it, fueled it, intensified the aching sense of emptiness until she felt like she was drowning in it.

Jaina had fled Dalaran after their decision. That she knew had been the right thing to do. She could not be impartial, nor could she defend and enforce the neutrality the city would once again represent.

A darker question surfaced.

Had it been right for her to return Dalaran at all after she’d lost Theramore? She had been hurting, mourning the loss of her city, when the Council had proposed the position to her. They had shown her Krasus’s prophecy and Rhonin’s desire for her to be his successor in his will. At the time, she felt almost obligated to pick up where the former Grand Magus had left off. She wanted to give his memory meaning, not just disappear and look like she felt nothing for his sacrifice.

She remembered, suddenly, her visit to the floating city, not long before her island had been destroyed, to ask for assistance in its defense. Jaina had distinctly thought, as she’d walked through the metropolis of towering spires and magic, that this Dalaran wasn’t the one she’d grown up in.

It was no longer her home.

Self doubt grew deeper in her heart. Had anything she’d done since the loss of her nation been right? Had everything been for naught?

Jaina shifted her weight to her left and felt herself slide sideways off the memorial block. Body numb but for the continuous ache in her chest, the mage trudged around the memorial until she was behind it. Standing at the edge of the cliff, Jaina looked down at the raging surf as it crashed into the jagged rocks below. 

_It would be so easy_ , part of her mind told her. So easy to finally leave all this pain behind, to escape the misery of her existence when all that she cared for kept slipping away into oblivion without her.

_It would be so easy._

All she would have to do was lean forward and let gravity do the rest.

_Too easy_ , said another, quieter internal voice. _Think of what you have left, think of what you would leave behind._

Another frustrated cry tore itself from Jaina’s throat, screaming out against the torrent of rain and wind around her. Her hands came up and pressed against her temples while her nails dug into her scalp. Why did her mind have to continue to work while her heart and soul felt like they were _dying_?! Why did it always have to persuade her to do the right thing instead of letting her take the easy way out?! 

As if in answer, her mind began to name off the people she would be abandoning. The list was woefully short. Anduin and Kalec were the only two people left in her life that she truly loved. Jaina and the blue had disagreed with her choice with the Council, and his lack of support for her decision had only driven the dagger of betrayal deeper into her heart.

Her list of friends was nearly as pathetic, and she had been keeping them at arm's length for longer than she realized.

Jaina’s thoughts drifted back to Anduin, and her heart sunk lower. She had not been kind to him on the day of his father’s funeral. She had hidden behind her anger at the Horde to try and keep her own pain at bay. In doing so, Jaina had yelled and snapped at him, berating him for continuing to cling to his ideals of peace with the Horde when they had been a major factor in his father’s death.

Finally tearing her gaze away from the raging ocean beneath her, Jaina turned and stared in the direction of the keep. Perhaps the hour was not too late? Lights still flicker from most of the windows in the keep. Maybe her adoptive nephew was still awake? She might yet still have a chance to apologize to the young man who never deserved her wrath in the first place.

Striding forward, Jaina murmured a spell, teleporting to Stormwind Keep from one step to the other. She appeared at the base of the stairs and craned her head up to stare at the lights reflecting out the windows. 

Still hardly feeling the rain and wind that continued to pelt and batter her in the darkness, she made her way up the stairs.

Her vision swam as tears filled them again. The last time she had done this had been at Varian’s funeral. Jaina could still feel the velvet carpets crush under her boots as she walked, and smell the roses in her mind as she passed.

Had it only been a week?

She felt so lost.

Mutely, she finished climbing the stairs and walked through the great hall into the main throne room. Business itself was concluded for the day, and the room was dimmed, lit just enough to allow the guards to see and for the Keep staff to go about their activities. Several recognized her immediately, and offered to take her drenched cloak, to bring her warm towels or something to drink. Jaina declined them all by reflex, but somewhere in her anguished haze, she remembered to cast a spell that dried her clothes so she wouldn’t trail half the storm in behind her.

A quiet inquiry of the king’s whereabouts had her walking back into the private wing of the Keep. Unable to take his father’s room, as was his right, Anduin had instead taken a new set of rooms not far from his old ones. Jaina found her way to them with relative ease. Two guards stood at his door, and they regarded her warily as she approached. She was soon recognized and their usual unreadable features softened a little as she neared. They did not block her path as she stepped up to the door, silently letting her know that Anduin was still awake. She raised her hand to knock, then winced as pain shot through it. Looking down, she found her right hand swollen with several knuckles and parts of her palm a shredded bloody mess. Distantly, a part of her remembered striking the granite block of the memorial with her fist.

Repeatedly.

Frowning, Jaina slipped her damaged hand up into her sleeve and raised her other hand to knock. This time she stopped, not due to pain, but apprehension. 

What if he didn’t want to see her? 

What if he was angry at her for disappearing and abandoning Dalaran? 

What if he wanted her to leave and never come back?! 

What if....

Jaina was startled out of her tumultuous thoughts as one of the guards reached out and knocked on the door for her. Heart pounding, the mage couldn’t decide if she wanted to smile at the guard in thanks, or set his cloak on fire. Before she could reach a decision, the door opened. 

Anduin, dressed in a loose tunic and cloth pants meant for sleeping, appeared on the other side. Before she could say anything, the young man smiled brightly and reached out, pulling her into a tight hug that blocked out the rest of the world. “I knew you’d come back,” he told her gently as he held the embrace for a moment longer. Releasing her, but keeping one arm securely wrapped around her shoulder, he guided her inside. The door was partially closed, keeping things proper while still giving them a bit of privacy.

“I’m glad to see you,” Anduin said immediately. “I heard what happened in Dalaran. I was worried you’d disappear like you did after Theramore. I wasn’t sure if I’d see you again.”

Jaina winced, she’d done just that after her island had been bombed, but not before fighting with Anduin and Varian about revenge.

No, she wouldn’t disappear again. 

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have left you like that during your fa-” her throat closed and her eyes burned. Clenching her teeth, she finished, “...last week. I thought you’d be angry with me. What I said then...I was wrong.” Jaina grimaced and looked at the floor, closing her eyes at the painful memories.

“I have no reason to be angry with you Aunt Jaina,” Anduin told her. “You were hurting, perhaps even more than I was.” He sighed as he added, “You still are.”

“So were you Anduin,” the sorceress insisted, looking back up at him. “You lost your _father_. I still don’t know how you remained so calm during the funeral. You seemed so peaceful and willing to listen, even through the heartache.”

The young king’s smile was small, and a little sad, as he reached for her arm and brought her over to one of the sofas where they could sit and speak comfortably. Anduin looked thoughtful for a moment, eyes distant, as if looking back into the past. “Whenever my father would leave to fight, he and I would always have the same talk. We both acknowledged that every time he left, there was a very real chance he wouldn’t survive or come home. It hurt at first, accepting this truth, but throughout all this war and fighting, I came to peace with it.

“I can’t say it didn’t hurt when the news came that Father had fallen. It hurt more than I can describe, but I was able to deal with it quickly.” Anduin reached out and placed a comforting hand on his aunt’s shoulder, “My father gave his life defending his people. It was an honorable death, and while I will miss him every day for the rest of my life, I will always be proud of him for what he did for all of us.”

Jaina couldn’t stop the tears as she listened, and hung her head when he finished. “You’re a stronger soul than I am, Anduin.”

“I don’t think so,” the young king squeezed her shoulder in another attempt at comfort. “I have not lost nearly so much as you. I felt the pain of losing only one. You’ve felt the pain of losing hundreds, if not thousands of people.”

“You belittle your father speaking that way,” Jaina warned.

“I’m not, and I think Father would agree with me. My heart is cracked and aching, but yours has been shattered over, and over, and over again. Yet, somehow, you keep finding the strength to stand back up and continue to move forward.” He reached out and thumbed away a few tears.

Jaina looked away, ashamed, “I almost couldn’t this time.” She gave a little shuddering sigh and Anduin frowned as she told him, “I’ve been... at your father’s memorial. I’m not sure how long I was there, but at one point, I found I’d walked around and over to the cliffs behind it.” Anduin’s air of calm wavered as his eyes widened in fear. He reached out again and pulled her into a fierce embrace as fresh tears began to fall. “I’m sorry,” she sobbed, “I’m sorry Anduin. I really wanted to. I just wanted to fall and for all of the pain to end!” She clutched his tunic in a desperate attempt to stay grounded, “But then I thought about what losing someone else might do to you so soon after your father. I couldn’t bear the thought of hurting you more.”

“Shhhhh, it’s all right,” he assured her, letting one hand comb through her hair in a comforting gesture. His voice was ragged, not quite able to hold his own tears at bay. “It’s okay. You’re still here. You’re right here with me.” Anduin leaned back so he was semi reclined on the sofa, pulling her with him so she rested against his chest. “You’re safe here, it’s okay.”

Jaina wrapped her arms around him, the desperate and aching part of her heart yearning for contact from something solid and alive. Another part of her rebelled, aghast that she was putting so much weight and sorrow on his young shoulders. 

Her tears faded slowly, and much to her embarrassment, Jaina found herself dozing lightly, exhausted after the long and troubling day. She pulled herself up as soon as she found the strength to do so, murmuring more apologies as she wiped her eyes with the cuff of her sleeve.

Anduin sat up with a small smile, “You don’t need to apologize Aunt Jaina. I can recall several times when I’d escape to Theramore to hide from my father’s anger and lack of understanding. You’ve done the same thing for me, and I’m glad I can finally return the favor.”

“You shouldn’t have to,” the sorceress sniffled as she met his gaze, then paused, suddenly realizing she had to raise her head slightly to meet his eyes, and she frowned. “When did you get taller than me? When did you grow up anyways? Why can’t you be ten again?”

Anduin chuckled, “Sorry, I can’t control that part.”

“I know,” Jaina’s chuckle was watery as she went to knuckle away another tear, and winced. She’d used her injured hand unconsciously, and she wasn’t quite fast enough to hide the damage before Anduin saw it. 

“What happened?” He asked, his voice quiet but full of concern as he deftly caught her wrist before she could pull it away.

Jaina worked her jaw for a moment before she answered, “I... I think I hit your father’s memorial a few times. I don’t remember doing it...or feeling it.” The concern on Anduin’s face deepened as he rose and moved to a cabinet on the other side of the room. He rifled through it quickly, pulled out a canvas sack, and returned to the sofa. Seating himself beside her, he opened it and removed several first-aid supplies, including a cleaning solution and a tiny pair of scissors. Anduin beckoned for her hand again, and Jaina obediently placed her battered hand in his. 

The sorceress found herself oddly entranced as she watched him work. His hands were gentle and precise as he snipped away the shredded and dangling skin from her knuckles and palm. He cleaned the gouges and abrasions with a solution that stung, but she welcomed it. It served as a minor distraction from the ache in her heart. When he seemed satisfied he’d removed all the grit and mud from her wounds, Anduin gently applied a balm that smelled of mageroyal and magic, explaining how it had been blessed with several healing spells to accelerate recovery. 

Anduin finished her treatment with a few gauze pads placed against the more substantial cuts. Then wrapping her hand in a long, narrow strip of bandage, weaving it expertly into place, covering each individual finger while allowing for minimal flexibility so she could still use the hand if she wished. 

Cleaning up, the young king said, “I wish I could treat the wounds in your heart as easily as I treated your hand.” Anduin put his things away, then strode back to the couch, but did not sit. Instead, he stood there for a moment, looking uneasy.

“What’s wrong?” His aunt asked, wondering if perhaps he was beginning to react to her behavior. There was no way around it, it had been inappropriate, no matter how low and dejected she felt. She had no right to subject her nephew to the turmoil and grief within her.

Anduin chewed his bottom lip for a few seconds, “My father left you something.” Jaina’s eyes widened at the news, but he continued cautiously. “I wanted to give it to you earlier, but you disappeared. I’m...hesitant to give it to you now, even though I have no right to keep it from you any longer.”

Jaina was surprised at the news, but nodded in agreement, “No, you don’t.”

The young king frowned, “I will give it to you, but, will you agree to a condition?”

“It depends.”

“You have to read it here while I’m with you,” Anduin explained. “I...already know what it is, and what it says. I’m just...I’m hoping it might help you, but I’m afraid it’s going to hurt you more. I don’t want you to be alone after you see it.”

A chill rushed up Jaina’s spine at her nephew’s words, and she found she could only nod mutely in response to his request. Anduin disappeared into the other room for a moment, but returned quickly, bearing in his hand an envelope with her name on it in Varian’s handwriting. He handed it to her, then sat down on the the sofa beside her and waited, his face void of any tangible emotion.

Tentatively, Jaina turned the envelope over, revealing the wax button imprinted with Stormwind’s sigil and the House of Wrynn. Her hands trembled as she broke the seal and opened it. A few neatly folded pages of parchment rested inside, looking innocent, but filling her with curiosity and dread at the same time. She pulled them out, set the envelope aside, and unfolded the pages.

It was a letter, simple and unadorned. Jaina began to read it immediately, her mind narrating the words in Varian’s deep, gruff voice. 

_Dear Jaina,_

_If you’re reading this, then I am no longer there with you in this life. I know you must be hurting, and I know I cannot ask you not to mourn for me after you have lost so much. I’m afraid I have many things to tell you, and much to ask of you, even in this dark hour._

It was oddly comforting to hear him speak to her from beyond the grave, and for a moment, the icy ache in her heart warmed as she continued to read.

_First, please be strong for Anduin. He will need you now more than ever, and I know you will be able to guide him properly down the path of leadership that Stormwind needs and deserves._

Jaina frowned as she read those words. She’d been the exact opposite of strong and supportive. With a heavy, shuddering sigh that brought out a few extra tears, the sorceress vowed to do better.

_Second, I give you my heartfelt thanks. No words can describe my gratitude for everything you have done for me over the years. You kept me from destroying my relationship with my son while I was still dealing with the incompleteness within myself. Furthermore, you showed Anduin that there were more options than solving all of life’s problems with aggression and violence. He is learning the balance between the two, a balance I wish you and I had learned at his age. I think it would have made our lives much easier._

Jaina chuckled ruefully at the memories of several of their arguments. Varian had had a fiery and biting temper, but she’d usually weathered the storm of his anger with an unwavering air of calm. Her patience had often came with a scathing yet gentle retort filled with solutions he'd never even considered. Along with that, Jaina had also given Anduin the sanctuary and the love he'd needed and deserved while Varian was still he warring with the two sides of his conflicting personalities.

_I must continue my thanks for how many times you saved my hide year after year of what seems like endless war. Throughout our more gruesome battles, you were always at my side, to the extent that you took a bullet for me in Pandaria. Never had I been so grateful, and as terrified for you, as I was in those moments when I carried you back into the temple, as you bled out in my arms._

_I still thank Chi-ji every evening for giving you back to us._

Jaina unconsciously leaned against Anduin a little in silent comfort as she read. The memory of the moment she’d been struck down by a sniper’s bullet rushed back to her, unbidden. She remembered a searing impact in her chest near her heart that left it feeling like it had been set ablaze. The sensation had rapidly shifted to an icy weight that spread through her entire body.

She reached up unconscious to touch the spot on her chest where, beneath her robes, Jaina bore the scar that remained from the fatal wound. It twinged slightly at the memories.

_Finally, I must tell you something that I’ve wanted to tell you for a very long time, but had neither the courage nor the strength to voice it.  
I love you, Jaina Proudmoore, with everything my heart can give, I love you. Not just the love I feel for you as my best friend. This is more, so, so much more._

Jaina went rigid as her eyes took in the words.

He _what?_

Distantly, she felt Anduin’s arm go around her shoulder, but her attention was firmly placed on the same paragraph. Tears fell, and the warmth that had gathered within her had vanished. 

_He loved you._  


The sorceress was trembling as she reread the same passage several more times to prove to herself she’d read them correctly, and suddenly became away of a building pressure in the back of her mind. It felt like a weight, something paralyzingly heavy, yet so deeply a part of her she hadn’t even noticed it was there until it had become unbearable. 

It’s true, she thought to herself as tears blurred her vision, obscuring the words that were tearing her heart to shred. He really...he really….She’d mourned the loss of her best friend, still mourned him, in fact. Reading his letter had not only reinforced the pain of his absence, but increased in exponentially.

Your best friend loved you, and you didn’t even realize it.

The pressure in the back of her mind collapsed with a snapping sensation that left her feeling weightless, dazed, and uncoordinated.

She hadn’t even known what she had until it was gone!

The room suddenly lost all warmth, and her limbs went numb. It felt like a jagged spear had been thrust through her heart and violently wrenched out. The pain was explosive, wrapping her chest in a vice and crushing it tighter with each passing second.

Jaina let out a strangled gasp, “Anduin.” She couldn’t breathe. 

Her vision faded to black. Somewhere, she thought she heard her nephew’s voice. It sounded so far away, and she no longer had the strength to resist slipping into oblivion.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jaina wakes after the events of the previous evening and must face the realities of what she's learned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For clarification, the heart syndrome I'm referring to in this chapter is a REAL THING and I'll be supplying a link up here and down at the end of the chapter for reference.
> 
> http://www.hopkinsmedicine.org/heart_vascular_institute/conditions_treatments/conditions/stress_cardiomyopathy/symptoms_diagnosis.html

* * *

_On the ocean ___

* * *

Jaina woke slowly, eyes swollen and crusted, making them difficult to open. Her head felt heavy and full of fuzz, and her nose was stuffy. A chill radiated throughout her body even though she was covered with several thick blankets. Her limbs felt like leaden weights, impossible to move, making her feel trapped beneath the layers of fabric. 

Attempting to take a deep breath caused a brief fit of coughing, making her head throb and her stuffy nose worse. Swallowing, Jaina winced, her throat raw and sore. Her chest ached profoundly, and she wondered if she had coughed a lot in her sleep.

_I guess this is what I get for sitting out in a rainstorm for hours,_ the sorceress thought to herself.

Slowly, between lethargy and the blurry state her cold left her in, Jaina began to realize she didn’t know where she was. A brief glance around did little except give her a slightly larger view of the stucco ceiling above her. Moving her head was more difficult than she expected, her neck stiff and sore when she tried to look around, adding to her discomfort 

The added range of visibility gave her no further clues to her location. Jaina was in a sparsely furnished bedroom, tucked neatly into a comfortably large four poster bed made of dark honey colored wood. To her left was a set of floor to ceiling windows that took up half of the wall on the left side. The drapes were closed over the windows, giving her no view of the outside and leaving the room dim to make sleep easier. A door sat on the wall opposite of her, though she had no idea where it led. Along the same wall to the right of the door was a vanity and a seat, but it's surface lay empty of belongings. The wall to her right had two doors, but neither held any type of markings to indicate what lay beyond them.

Gingerly, Jaina sat up, grunting as the ache in her chest rose sharply by her movement. A wave of dizziness swirled around her, forcing her close her eyes and try and breath steadily in-between coughs until it passed. When she was sure she could move, Jaina continued her inspection. The headboard of her bed rested against the back wall behind her. A chair sat to the right of her bed, as well as a small nightstand that held a lamp and a box of tissues. Jaina made use of those immediately, then amused herself a little by trying to land the used paper in the trashcan tucked beneath the nightstand. 

She missed.

Groaning, Jaina clawed her way out from under the covers, distantly noting her right hand was sore and wrapped in bandaging, then tried to swing her legs over the side of the bed. Pain lanced through her chest again, causing it to tighten and making it hard to breath. Her distress must have been loud enough to be heard, for the door opposite her bed opened and Anduin walked in. 

He halted immediately, as if surprised to see her awake, then hurried over to her. “You shouldn't be up,” he told her gently.

“It’s just a cold, Anduin,” Jaina rasped, her voice rough from her aching throat. She succeeded in rising with her second attempt, and fetched her used tissue off the floor. Depositing it in the garbage, she added, “I've suffered a few in my time.”

“It's not the cold I’m concerned about,” Anduin told her, keeping one hand on her shoulder and the other on her arm as Jaina made her way back to bed. “Don’t you remember what happened last night?”

“Last night?” The mage’s brow furrowed as the young king helped her sit on her bed again. He took the chair next to it as Jaina tried to recall what had occurred the previous evening. She remembered fleeing Dalaran after the Council’s decision, visiting Varian’s memorial, and seeing Anduin. Other flashes surfaced. A few comforting moments, Anduin caring for her injured hand, and a letter.

The letter.

_Oh Light…._

The ache in Jaina’s chest intensified in a burst that caused her to lurch forward. Anduin steadied her as she began to tremble in reaction. 

“Easy,” her nephew murmured, “you need to stay calm Aunt Jaina.”

“Stay calm? Anduin, do you know what that letter _said?!”_ Jaina asked, her voice starting to rise in tone as uncertainty began to pool in her stomach.

“I do, I told you that last night. I'm also one of the witness signatures on it,” Anduin reminded her.

“Varian said he _loved me!”_ Jaina exclaimed, her tone rising to a nearly panicked level, then she gasped as another dagger of pain plunged into her chest, causing her to moan and sway precariously at the edge of the bed. Anduin guided her gently back down so she was laying on the mattress, and Jaina waited for the pain to ease before she asked weakly, “What happened to me? Why does my chest hurt so much?”

“You’re suffering from a stress induced cardiomyopathy,” Anduin explained. “It mimics a small heart attack, but lacks any of the other accompanying health issues, and your illness and distress are aggravating it.” He pulled the blankets back over her. “It’s rarely fatal, but you’re going to need to relax and rest so you can recover properly.” Snorting, he also added, “Ironically, another names for it is called Broken Heart Syndrome.”

Jaina swallowed, winced, and heaved a tremulous sigh as she rested on her right side for a moment. Then she fixed the young man with a penetrating look, “How long have you known?”

“That Father loved you? Officially? Since we nearly lost you in Pandaria,” Anduin answered easily, taking one of her hands in both of his. “Unofficially, I knew he loved you since Theramore was destroyed.”

“That’s… _years,”_ Jaina realized, “Why didn’t you… either of you... _say_ anything to me?”

“Father made me promise not to,” the young king responded. “I disagreed with his choice about not telling you. I always believed you had the right to know. But… remaining quiet about it was the way he chose to deal with.”

“What made him choose to tell you?” Jaina asked.

Anduin smirked, “He didn’t. I outright told _him_ to his face.” Jaina’s eyes widened at her nephew’s boldness, and he chuckled, “He asked me how I could make such a claim, and I told that I could see it in his behavior.”

“How so?” Jaina asked as she mentally tried to recall any obvious changes over the years. She felt her frown deepened as a few things she’d dismissed as nothing suddenly came back in a brand new light after the revelation from the night before.

Varian had been softer towards her, noticeably so after she’d nearly died in Pandaria while protecting him. Jaina had, at the time, merely associated the slight changes with that, since they’d never really spoken about it. There had been, of course, a quiet moment when he’d thanked her, but otherwise they hadn’t dwelled on the incident, far happier to leave the unpleasant memories behind them.

“Oh,” he tilted his head to the side as his smirk shifted to a fond smile, “Father would get a little smile on his face whenever you were mentioned. He was excited when you would visit for dinner, and he would always light up whenever you were near. It was all very subtle, but I was around him most often, so I noticed.” His smiled faded, “Father was surprised when I asked him about it. At first he tried to deny it, and failed miserably,” Anduin snorted a short, bitter chuckle. “Then he tried to deflect, writing it off as familial only, then I knew he was lying.”

“Was his voice slightly higher?” Jaina asked with a grimace as she shift to her back and shoved herself up against her pillows so she could sit up a little.

“Yes, and the corner of his left eye kept twitching, just a teenie bit,” Anduin confirmed as he gestured with his thumb and forefinger.

“Definitely lying,” the sorceress’s smile was bittersweet. Jaina had known many of the former king’s signals and subtle habits from working with him for so long. It was one of the ways she’d been able to bend around his anger, knowing when to push, and when to back off. She had been pleased to discover Varian didn’t lie very often, other than little things like gifts or who’d thrown popcorn at her during the argent tournament.

The more Jaina thought about it, the more other slight changes came to light. 

Before the loss of Theramore, Jaina had been invited to casual dinners with the Wrynns a few times a month. She’d believed it had been for Anduin’s sake, and the sorceress had often enjoyed the challenging conversation Varian could offer during the private get-togethers.

Invitations had become more frequent after Theramore had been destroyed. She’d declined many of them, not wanting to subject them to her new abrasive personality and somewhat volatile mood swings. 

They had become insistant after Pandaria, until Jaina permanently altered her schedule so she spent her evenings in Stormwind twice a week.

“I pushed a little more before he finally admitted it,” Anduin concluded. “That whole endeavor was relatively painless. However, when I suggested he tell you...well...that was a completely different story. He adamantly refused to tell you and wouldn’t budge about it.” He sighed as he continued, “I wouldn’t relent on the subject, though, and ultimately me pressing him to tell you ended up making that thing sitting in the drawer over here.” He thumbed over at the little nightstand where there was indeed a drawer where the letter must’ve been stashed. Anduin shook his head, “I could get through to Father about peace and cooperation with the Horde, but when it came to talking to you, he became as stubborn as a mule.”

Jaina gave an unladylike snort, “That sounds _exactly_ like something he would do.”

“I was really angry with him when he told me about the letter,” Anduin explained, then chuckled ruefully, “Not as furious as High Priestess Whisperwind, but not too far off.”

“High Priestess…” she trailed off for a moment before the title sunk in, “... _Tyrande knows!?”_ Jaina abruptly sat up, choked as a sledgehammer hit her in the chest, then fell back and waited for the ceiling to stop moving before she gave Anduin a penetrating glare.

“Yes, she’s the second witness signature on Father’s letter,” Anduin asked.

Pressing the palm of her left hand to her forehead, Jaina gritted her teeth, “I never actually finished reading it. After he said he…” her throat closed at her first attempt. She swallowed hard as she tried again, “... he said he loved me… I guess I blacked out.”

Anduin nodded, “You suffered your heart attack right before losing consciousness.” He paused before asking, “Do you want to finish it?”

Jaina looked over at the drawer where the letter sat and leaned away from it like it was something vile and repulsive. Her heart pounded and ached as she considered its contents, “No, but I would like to see proof of Tyrande’s signature.”

Reaching out, Anduin opened the drawer and pulled out the envelope. Withdrawing the letter from its folds, he rolled the parchment back until only the bottom signatures were visible and showed them to her.

Sure enough, Tyrande’s signature sat right below Anduin’s, along with a postscript in her handwriting that read;

_I hit him for you!_

The short statement surprised a laugh out of the sorceress, “Did she really hit him?”

“Repeatedly,” Anduin nodded as he folded the letter back up, “and screamed at him for about an hour for how horrible this was.” He waggled the envelope in question before shoving it back in the drawer. “Father took it all rather calmly, and gave a few counter arguments, but I thought they were weak by comparison.”

“What were his counterarguments?” Jaina asked.

“He discussed them briefly in his letter, but his reasons were that rulers of two separate nations couldn’t be in a relationship like that,” the young king answered. “And he didn’t want to complicate your relationship with Kalec.” Anduin shook his head, “Maybe I’m still too young to understand, but Father said he loved you and ultimately wanted you happy. You seem very happy with Kalec. He didn’t want to hurt or potentially destroy that happiness after you’d lost so much.”

Jaina was quiet for a moment, processing what she'd been told. It was true, rulers of two different nations had never been allowed to pursue romantic relationships with one another, at least not officially. There were countless stories of trysts and other such ‘secret’ relations between rulers. And by secret it meant everyone knew about them. All were scandalous, and most ended in utter tragedy or ruin. 

Rumors and stories aside, the practical part of two rulers in a romantic relationship was dangerous. While Stormwind and Dalaran were ultimately allied and peaceful, the risk of sabotage or vulnerability for less amiable nations was real. The idea was one ruler could be blinded or misled by their partner or close relations, allowing for problems to arise and be neglected due to distraction. 

It seemed petty and ridiculous, but kingdoms had risen and fallen over claims of love and desire. Varian wasn't the type of man to put his people at risk over personal gain. 

_Hadn’t been_ , her mind chimed in, and Jaina’s heart clenched again at the reminder of his absence. 

The knowledge that Varian hadn’t wanted to complicate her relationship with Kalec warmed her heart a little. It took an incredible amount of strength to see someone you loved in a relationship with someone else and only wanting their happiness over personal wishes. 

“No Anduin, those are both completely valid reasons for why your father and I couldn’t pursue a relationship,” Jaina finally admitted as she leaned her head back against the pillows.

“What? But….” the young man started to say.

Jaina lifted a finger to cut him off, “But they were both terrible reasons not to _tell me_.” She closed her eyes and sighed, “So what convinced Tyrande to keep a secret like that from me?”

“Because my father was trying to do the right thing, even though he was going about it the wrong way,” Anduin answered. “High Priestess Whisperwind didn’t agree with the method either, but she couldn’t bring herself to deny the request.” He looked up at his aunt with a very small smirk, “I think she’s also a bit of a hopeless romantic.”

“You wouldn’t be wrong in that assumption,” Jaina huffed a breathy chuckle, the best she could do while trying not to cough and aggravate her abused heart and lungs. The ruler of the Night Elves had a soft spot for tacky romance stories and was unashamed about it.

Anduin was silent for several moments, then rubbed his face with his hands a whispered, “I’m sorry Aunt Jaina.”

“You don’t need to apologize for your father, Anduin,” Jaina told him.

“I’m not apologizing for that,” the king ground his teeth, “Well… yes I am, but I’m also sorry I ever gave you that blasted letter in the first place.”

Jaina gave a bitter chuckle, “It’s not like you had much of a choice. He left it for me to read after his death. You had no right to keep it from me once I was aware of its existence. Other than outright telling me what it was, and what it said, it’s unlikely I would’ve listened to any warnings you gave me.” Anduin frowned at his lap and didn’t answer. Sighing, the sorceress reached out, placing her hand on his left forearm to gain his attention. “I know you were just trying to protect me.” She squeezed his arm in a comforting gesture, “None of this is your fault, Anduin.” 

“It feels like some of it is,” the young man said, not moving his gaze.

Jaina shook her head and gingerly sat up. Her chest protested the movement, but she didn’t let it stop her from getting upright and leaning over towards her nephew. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and held him close, pressing a motherly kiss to the side of his head. This embrace felt better than the one the night before, when she’d clutched him in an effort to remain grounded through the anguish she’d been drowning in. It had been wrong to put all of her hurt and loss on his shoulders.

Slowly, Jaina felt Anduin’s arms wrap around her until he held her tightly. There were no words, not even tears. Just two people who’d lost too much finding solace in each others company.

Until a fit of coughing forced the mage to pull away quickly, turning so she didn’t cough on the young king. Jaina sniffed and held her head with a groan after it passed, “I shouldn’t be hugging you while I’m sick.”

Anduin shrugged as he offered his stuffed up aunt the box of tissues, “I’ll be fine. I’m not the one who stood out in a storm for hours.” Jaina scrunched her face up at him to make him laugh, then blew her nose in a futile attempt to gain the ability to breathe out of it once more.

They were both quiet for some time until Anduin said, “You should get some rest.”

Jaina scoffed, “I have too much to think about to sleep.”

“Like what?”

“Well, for starters, where am I going to go once I’m recovered?” the sorceress posed the question.

“What do you mean?”

Jaina suddenly felt sheepish, “I didn’t just step down as the leader of the Kirin Tor, Anduin. I...I can’t bring myself to live in a city where the Horde is once again allowed to walk around freely.” She hated hearing those words come from her own mouth, but Jaina knew she wouldn’t be able to act civilly around the faction that had been partially responsible for Varian’s death. “It wouldn’t be safe, for either side, if I remained in Dalaran. At this point, I technically don’t have a home again.”

Anduin’s eyes widened and he sat stock still for a moment, then sputtered loudly and shook his head before pinching the bridge of his nose, “Light give me strength, Father would be rolling in his grave right now if he heard you say that.”

“Say what?” Jaina asked, genuinely confused.

“That you don’t have a home!” Anduin shouted, and appeared to startle himself with his own volume. He ran his fingers through his hair and took a deep breath before letting it out slowly. A little calmer, he continued, “Aunt Jaina you’ll always have a home here in Stormwind.” He stopped abruptly and looked a little self conscious, “I mean... if you want to stay here that is. You don’t have to... but... if you want to, there will always be a place for you here.” 

For a moment Jaina could see the flustered teenager in Anduin’s unsteady smile instead of a steadfast and level headed king. “You’re sure I won’t be an intrusion or an inconvenience?”

“Why would you even think that? You’re family!” Anduin asked, brow furrowed with a frown, then he looked down at her bandaged hand before looking back at her face with a scowl, “Did you hit your head on my father’s memorial too?”

“No!” Jaina answered with stubborn look and crossed her arms over her chest.

“Then why would you think you wouldn’t be welcome here in Stormwind?” Anduin asked, the bits of sarcastic humor from the moment before gone from his voice.

Jaina stared down at the blankets for a moment, “I haven’t been the best person these last few years, Anduin. I’m not proud of the way I’ve acted, or of some of the decisions I’ve made. There are those who I used to call friend who no longer wish to associate with me, and I know there are places I am no longer welcome.” She peered up at the young man. “I worry there will be a time when you’ll be one of those people, and Stormwind will be one of those places.”

“Never,” Anduin said firmly. “You will always be welcome in my home Aunt Jaina, no matter what happens.”

Relieved tears came unbidden, “Thank you, Anduin.”

He gave her a rough sideways hug, and held her tightly until a knock at the door made them look up, and Anduin gave a dramatic sigh, “And that would be one of my keepers telling me it’s almost time for my next meeting.” He gave her the biggest puppy dog eyes and pouting frown he could muster and asked, “Wanna go for me?”

Jaina laughed, “I don’t know, would they be okay with me hacking and sneezing and sniffling the whole time? My only contribution would be used tissues.” She held up the one she hadn’t yet thrown away.

“Ew,” the young man chuckled, “no, I don’t think those would be acceptable.”

“Then you’re going to have to go to this one yourself,” Jaina smiled as she relaxed against her pillows and closed her eyes. Her head pounded dully and her chest continued to throb steadily in time with her heartbeat. Ultimately, she felt miserable.

Anduin smiled fondly at her as he rose, “Get some rest. I’ll send someone down to check on you in a little while. Maybe I’ll see you for dinner?”

“I’d like that,” Jaina said softly, eyes half lidded as she watched him leave.

The door closed with a soft click, leaving her alone with her thoughts and the barely audible dripping sound of rain outside.

Whether Jaina wanted it to or not, sleep eluded the sorceress, her mind continuously going back to the letter sitting in the drawer beside her even after multiple attempts to think of something else. It warred with her, part of her wanting to go back to it, to hear his voice again, even if it was just a mimicry in her mind. The curious part of her nature really wanted to know what remained unread, while the rest of her decided she would rather jump in a lava pit.

Her curiosity won out.

Gingerly, Jaina reached over to the drawer and fished out the envelope within. With trembling hands, she reopened it and pulled out the seemingly innocent pieces of parchment. Her eyes scanned the paper, searching for she’d stopped earlier.

She found the words that had ravaged her the night before, and she grunted against the swift ache that squeezed her heart for a moment before easing. Moving passed the painful paragraph, Jaina picked up where she left off;

_I’m sorry I could not bring myself to tell you. At first I wasn’t even confident in my own feelings. Then, over time, when I realized they were true, it felt wrong to bring up._  
_You’re happy with Kalecgos, and if you’re happy, then I can be content with that._  
_There is of course, that whole issue of rulers of two separate nations not being romantically involved too. You know as well as I do the problems that could arise between us and our nations. We’ve had too much strife and upheaval in our lives to go in search of more for personal reasons._  
_All I ask of you is to please, please, be there for Anduin now that I can’t. You are the mother of his heart, and it would destroy him to lose you so soon after losing me.  
_ _Be my strength Jaina, and please continue moving forward. Face everything with the same beautiful passion, and compassion, that makes you who you are._

_All my love, and my final goodbye,  
~Varian_

Tears had begun to blot the ink even before Jaina had finished reading. With infinite care not to damage one of the last bits of Varian she had left, she put the letter back in its envelope and tucked it back in the drawer beside her. Once safely away, Jaina curled up in a ball under her blankets and sobbed.

Losing Theramore had made it feel like her heart was being ripped to shreds within her chest. Jaina had been sure there wouldn’t be anything, anymore loss that she faced that would be as painful as losing her home and her people. 

But this hurt so much more! It felt like her soul was slowly dying while her body remained alive.

Why did it hurt so much?! Why was losing Varian infinitely more painful than the destruction of Theramore?!

_Did you love him?_ A quiet voice in her mind asked.

Had she? She’d surely cared for Varian in the best ways two friends could, and being considered part of his family had indeed deepened that affection.

But had she loved him?

She gave a violent shudder, then twitched, as her gasping sobs slowly began to calm into weak, mewling tears as she laid there trying to find an answer. Exhaustion and illness was making it harder and harder for Jaina to keep her thoughts straight, she slipped in and out of consciousness, her sleep broken and fraught with nightmares and ghastly, haunting questions that she couldn’t seem to find the answers for to. 

At some point, a knock came from her door. 

It opened slowly without waiting for her to answer, and a shadow slipped inside. It was tall, perhaps taller than herself, and it wavered in the air as it moved towards her. Now and then a limb or the shape of a face would be discernable within the shifting, shadowy form, but otherwise it remained blurry and incohesive. It ghosted right up to her bedside and seemed to study her for a few moments, but did not touch her. Fever and the ache in her chest continuously sapped her strength, leaving her unable to do anything more than lay there with her eyes open and wait to see if it would do something. 

The shadow left her bedside after it seemed satisfied with whatever it saw, and moved to the windows. It looked out for a moment, swaying and undulating in the air before it finally left silently through the same door it arrived.

Jaina blinked as the door closed, suddenly able to move and look around once more. With a bit of effort, she was able to push herself up onto her elbows and look around. The strange figure was indeed gone, and she reached up and touched her head in confusion.

Maybe it had just been a dream, and she flopped back down on the mattress and pulled the blankets over her head, hoping she could sleep away her despair.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Link to the Syndrome discussed within the chapter: http://www.hopkinsmedicine.org/heart_vascular_institute/conditions_treatments/conditions/stress_cardiomyopathy/symptoms_diagnosis.html


End file.
